Fenghuang Down.
Another novel creation. The shrine maiden was practically Doraemon from a manga, always producing things no one had ever seen before. Like Fenghuang Down. Nian, like an overgrown child, wanted to touch anything unfamiliar, but the feather had neither form nor substance, like a self-contained mirage.
"Don't do that. It can lead us through dreams."
Hoshino climbed up from the ground and rubbed her aching thighs. A summoned descent required a waiting period—an essential lesson for every charlatan.
"Pay attention."
Hoshino stared at Nian—more precisely, at her two pairs of horns. She needed an excuse to touch them, or Phoenix's unlock would hit a deadlock. Nian sensed her gaze as well, and Hoshino simply stopped trying to hide it and spoke.
"To be honest, this is dangerous. When I'm dreaming, I don't want an unstable factor staying awake the whole time."
"Understandable."
Nian stuck out her tongue. "But that concern of yours is rather unreasonable. Setting aside your own strength, wouldn't that immortal who's always by your side be secretly protecting you?"
"That's exactly the problem."
Hoshino gave her a meaningful look, and Nian returned one, instantly understanding.
Act along, got it.
Still, that made the plot a little too cliché. Mutual distrust within a small team—only superhero movies for children played things out like that. Nian was beginning to doubt the scriptwriting abilities of the Yae Shrine production crew.
Were they really veteran screenwriters?
Hoshino winked at her again. She had always been acting. The stage was all of Terra, and the curtain that covered the heavens had never fallen since the day it was raised. The drama would play on forever along the linear river of time, until the actors grew bored.
(Play along.)
(Fine.)
Nian stuck out her tongue, her eyes narrowing into two irreverent